The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

“But I didn’t die, unfortunately. I was sold. The witch bought me and didn’t know they treated me so rough, I was strong. She liked me. You have a healthy hardy baby, too hardy. Your family is fine.»

What happened there, on the forest road? What did Varakh do? What a pity that Varakh died, and in his head there are no more thoughts and memories that Kors could see and read. And why later Varakh continued to keep his secret, helped Kors look for a child? Why, knowing what really happened, and seeing how his friend was dying of grief, didn’t he tell the truth? Didn’t think it would all go this far? Didn’t tell him at first, and then was just afraid to admit it? Or did he feel guilty for some act of his, and understood that Kors wouldn’t forgive him for this? How now to know the truth?

Kors got up heavily from the bed.

Enough to think about it! It’s all pointless, and to hell, what’s the difference! Nik is my son. And it means, by some miracle, he survived, that’s all.

Kors called Adrian and ordered him to heat more water for him. The unclean one brought in a deep wooden tub, which served Kors as a camping bath. For the comfort of the sir Tyutya covered it from the inside with a white linen sheet. While waiting for everything to be ready, Kors watched as Adrian brought bucket after bucket and poured warm water into the tub. Despite his thinness and obvious signs of exhaustion, Adrian brought two full buckets at once. And Kors saw him holding a heavy bucket in each hand and lifting them rather easily, pouring out the water. Adrian didn’t spill a drop, and Kors didn’t know where his strength was coming from. “He is very hardy, strong, he quickly recovered,” thought Kors involuntarily. The tub was big and deep. It took a lot of water to fill it up. But Adrian didn’t seem to get tired, and he lifted the tenth bucket as confidently as the first.

“Adrie, has it stopped raining?” Kors listened to outside sounds, not hearing the usual pounding of drops on the cone-shaped roof of the tent.

“No, sir,” Adrian replied.

“Really? Why can’t I hear it?”

“It has gotten weaker, sir, but it continues to drizzle.”

Well, then Kors can take his time. Until the rain stops and the weather improves, they won’t set off on the road, and Nik at such an early time is unlikely to call him. Kors didn’t even want to check how he was. He was probably sleeping, as usual. Has he at least taken the medicine? Has he changed his bandages? Fuck, to hell! In the end, he is not alone there, his favorites Prince Arel and Verniy are with him, so let them take care of him! Ungrateful bitch!

“It's all ready, sir,” said Adrian. He couldn’t leave until Kors let him, but signaling that his work was done, he backed away, making a clear movement towards the exit. Kors looked skeptically at his hair set in the form of a Mohawk, but said nothing about it.

“Adrian, you’re very thin,” he remarked, “go to the supply wagon, tell Parky that I ordered, have him open it for you. Take milk there, there are cheeses in the box below, take them and have a meal.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But when you take milk, take it from the jug that stands on the shelf behind the other jug, and between the jugs to the right. There is also a jug with a strip, and a bowl covered with a lid. Don’t drop anything. There is fatter milk in one of the jars, don’t touch it, take it from the jug from which I told you. And take the cheese that lies in the box, you can cut off a piece of it for yourself. It is wrapped in wax paper, next to it is similar one, but more greasy, don’t touch it, but take the one that I told you about.”

“Thank you sir, I’m not hungry,” Adrian replied quickly. He stood in front of Kors in his clothes, which hung like a bag on his thin body, and, as always, stared at the floor, as if carefully examining something very important to himself. The oval blue piece of glass protruded unsightly on his lower lip, and Kors liked it.

“Damn, what’s the matter?! I myself offer you! I say: “Take it!”. Did I explain something incomprehensibly?” Kors raised his voice, clearly starting to get irritated.

“Sorry sir, I’m just not hungry at all. May I go, sir?”

“Go!” Kors threw with displeasure. “Why am I trying for you! I want to do the best for you, but you turn up your nose! Well, go to hell! Ungrateful creatures!”

Tyutya brought him breakfast. She did everything exactly the same as in the Ore Town: she brought a tray of food, put a cup of coffee on the table. Kors lay in warm water, enjoying the bath.

“Give me coffee,” he ordered, and the girl brought a saucer to him with a cup on it.